


For a Pint and a Packet of Gingernuts

by moonflowers



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: As in they're engaged, Auntie Debbie wants in Harry's pants, Cliche, Domestic, Established Relationship, Family, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Post-Canon, This is a ridiculous pile of fluff, because dean, hopefully
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-01 10:57:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6515464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonflowers/pseuds/moonflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Eggsy reach a point when it's time to meet each other's families.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Eggsy was thankful that, after Harry had gone and gotten himself shot in the fucking face, he didn't leave them all hanging too long back at HQ as to his whereabouts. Firstly because, y'know, he was alive and shit. Secondly because it meant they hadn't had enough time to start clearing out all the weird crap Harry chose to decorate his house with. Because he had of course sauntered back into their lives, broken but not beyond repair, and thrown himself back into the role of Galahad with gay abandon. Which meant that, a year or so down the line, his fucking weird wall of newspaper headlines had gained several new additions. Harry was looking over the most recent one _\- SPRAY AT THE RACES: Disgusting footie stars pee in cup then toss it off balcony -_ over mid-morning tea and biscuits, having returned home from a brief stint in Paris the night before. It had meant to be a meeting rather than a mission, but unexpected betrayal and evil plots had been uncovered and blood shed, upping it's status to one worthy of keeping the front page.

"That's fucking gross," Eggsy said, reading the headline and looking over the accompanying shot of some footballer pissing into a cup and chucking it carelessly into the unsuspecting crowd below at the Cheltenham racecourse.

"Quite," Harry agreed, setting it aside to hang up later. He was almost out of room on the study walls, and Eggsy was low-key worried they were going to start spreading over the rest of the house, to be honest. He already had Mr Pickle and the sodding butterflies to deal with, he wasn't all that sure he could cope with the Kardashians and Cheryl whatever-her-last-name-was-these-days watching him pee too. 

"Your shirt button's undone, babe," Eggsy said, eyes zeroing in on the fourth button down on Harry's shirt, where the fabric gaped and showed a sliver of undershirt. Eggsy refrained from slipping his fingers into the gap. Just about. 

"And whose fault is that?" said Harry tartly, reaching up to fasten it.

"I ain't sorry."

Eggsy had been asleep when Harry'd let himself into the house late last night, having made the briefest of stops possible at HQ after returning from France before heading straight home. But the moment the mattress had dipped with Harry's weight he'd been wide awake, pulling Harry on top of him, luxuriating in his closeness after their time apart. He'd smelt wrong on the surface, of trains and travel, though it was all but forgotten when Eggsy'd stripped him out of his clothes and kissed every inch he could reach, covering him with his body until he smelt of Eggsy, of sweat, warm sheets and sleep.  
Sex was always a little bit different after one of them had been away. It became something desperate and clinging, a rush to show the other just how much they'd missed them while they were apart. But there was a sort of reverence too, an appreciation, which - although they never said it out loud - translated to nothing more complicated than thankfulness they'd come home in one piece. It was something they were careful not to take for granted. 

As such, they'd gotten out of bed a little later than usual that morning, making good and proper use of the standard time off granted after international missions, also given to Eggsy by proxy, since he could be spared. Harry had, of course, gotten up to shower and dress, and had looked just as infuriatingly and wonderfully put together as he always did, until Eggsy had tugged him back down into the sheets and given him a thorough snogging. He'd fucking missed him, okay? Which was why Harry's shirt was wrinkled and his hair all over the place as they sat at the kitchen table a while later, Eggsy still in boxers and a hoodie and smelling of sex, and Harry pretending he disapproved. 

"Did you go and visit your mother while I was away?" Harry reached again for the biscuit tin, "you know she worries." On paper, Michelle Unwin was unaware of what the pair of them did for a living, but was far from stupid, and Eggsy always had bruised easily.

"Yeah, I did," he gulped his tea, enjoyed the simple pleasure of the warm china between his hands. "Watched some weepy film, did some drawing with Daisy and got glitter fucking everywhere," he shrugged. "Standard."

"You gave them both my best, I trust." Harry delicately plucked another ginger biscuit from the tin. He'd been eating more of them, Eggsy had noticed, since they'd come back on the shelves - the factories up north had been badly flooded in the new year, and 'proper' ginger biscuits couldn't be had for love nor money. Cue seemingly endless weeks of Harry bitching about the lack of quality gingernuts. Which meant he now had three rather than two with his morning cuppa, and Eggsy pretended not to notice. And maybe he liked the lingering taste of ginger when he kissed him, so what? 

"Course I did," he nudged Harry under the table with his toe in reprimand, "I can't go over there without mum askin' if we've set a sodding date yet."

"Mm," Harry frowned in consideration, dunked a biscuit in his tea, "I do see her point on that score. We really should you know."

"Yeah, yeah," Eggsy sighed. He did want to move things along - he was over the fucking moon that he and Harry were getting married, but there never seemed to be a good moment to sit down and plan shit. For all its perks, Kingsman was a fucking demanding career. "There's so much to do, I don't know where to fuckin' start. Maybe I should give Rox a call..." As his best woman, and all round scarily competent human being, she'd probably be able to get the ball rolling.

"Yes, it is somewhat daunting," Harry conceded, reached across the table top to stroke Eggsy's hand with his finger, "but we'll manage, darling." It was comforting, in a messed up sort of way, to know that Harry was a little overwhelmed by it too. As he was constantly pointing out, he had plenty of experience on Eggsy in almost every area thinkable, but when it came to this, they were both on unfamiliar terrain.

"I know," Eggsy smiled, squeezed his fingers, thought of the wedding rings they had yet to pick out. "There's something else I was wondering though..."

"I'm all ears."

"Should I maybe, like, meet your family? I don't know anything about them, and fucked if the first time I meet them is going to be our fucking wedding day." He hadn't even known if Harry had much in the way of family until Merlin had mentioned it in passing a few months back. Eggsy hadn't been sure how to approach asking Harry about family; he seemed like the type to have some sort of tragic backstory that he didn't like to talk about, typical posh people repression and shit. He suspected Merlin had deduced this and taken pity on him, dropped a few hints about past encounters with Harry's siblings and parents for his benefit. 

Harry held back a wince, the barest twitch of his mouth, hand clenching under Eggsy's where they rested on the table top. "Yes," he conceded grimly, reaching for another biscuit. Under the circumstances, Eggsy decided to let it slide without comment. "You're right I suppose."

"Fuck, sound more happy why don't you."

"I apologise, it's just..." Harry paused, weighed his words, before saying carefully, "there's rather a lot of them."

Eggsy snorted, reached forward to snag a custard cream from the tin. "I'm sure I can manage it Harry, I'm a big boy y'know..." he let the end of the sentence taper off suggestively, and Harry rolled his eyes, unimpressed, something Eggsy had long since noted he only let himself do in front of a select few people.

"Yes, darling," he said, paused a moment. "Let me be clear though. It's not that I don't want you to meet them, never that, just that I'd long since given up on the idea that I'd be bringing anyone to meet them with such serious intention. I honestly don't know what to expect from it."

"Well," Eggsy bit back a smile over the fact that Harry was so adorably apprehensive over Eggsy meeting his family, "you've told them about me, yeah?"

"Of course."

"Then don't worry," Eggsy puffed out his chest, gave him a wink, "they'll love me."

Harry laughed softly, reached over to brush a biscuit crumb from Eggsy's chin. "Now that I know for certain." 

"Good," Eggsy nodded decisively, then, "I s'pose you should meet my lot properly too. S'only fair."

"I'd be delighted, I'm sure." He probably meant it and all. When they'd first started seeing each other, Eggsy had expected a certain amount of compromise on both sides, which had proved to be a correct assumption, but it still sent him reeling just how much Harry was willing to do to keep him happy. He still wondered what he'd done to deserve it sometimes, and Harry would kiss him, murmur nonsensical truths until he stopped doubting himself.

"There's mum and Daisy, obviously. But I got a few aunties and cousins too." It was Eggsy's turn to wince, "there's not many of us, but they're... loud." To be honest, it had been a fucking joy to have them back in his life again. Dean had kept them all at bay with his fucking charming personality and worse besides, warned Michelle away from seeing them out of fear they'd talk her around to leaving him. It... well, it had been a pretty fucking shit time. But with Dean locked up and out of the picture, and after the chaos of V-Day, Michelle had tentatively started to pick up the pieces again, getting back the family life they'd all missed. And yeah, it'd probably be fucking embarrassing, but considering he thought he might not see any of them again a couple of years ago, he'd deal with it. On top of that, he'd never dreamed of the thing between he and Harry amounting to something so domestic. It was fucking brilliant, actually.

"If they're anything like you, darling, I'm sure I'll love them." Despite how nauseating that was, Eggsy still found himself grinning and going pink in the face. He reckoned Harry said shit like that on purpose, just to watch his reaction.

"Fuckin' smooth bastard." Eggsy leant across the table to kiss him, the subtle spiciness of the ginger warm on his tongue, and wondered if he could persuade him to come back to bed for a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Sun newspaper headline is a genuine one from March this year, and the ginger biscuit thing did actually happen, my mum was distraught.  
> This part was more for settings things up, the next part will be meeting Harry's family, and part three Eggsy's.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta for your lovely comments on part one :)  
> As you all probably know, there's a wonderful fic by hartwinning where Eggsy meets Harry's family, and that's pretty much how I headcanon them tbh. With that in mind, I've tried not to let this end up too similar, hopefully it's worked.

The aftermath of V-Day had caused a sudden spike in couples getting married, or engaged, in the months that followed. The Harts had proved to be no exception, with one of Harry's cousins tying the knot mere weeks afterwards to his partner of many years, and his niece Annette, who'd defied tradition and gotten down on one knee to propose to her boyfriend. So as luck would have it, there was no need for the two of them to stage some sort of occasion wherein Eggsy could meet Harry's family, they would simply attend the wedding together, Eggsy as Harry's incredibly keen plus one.  
The ceremony itself had been nice enough, miles away from any of the brief and functional registry office weddings Eggsy had attended before, and held in the old village church not far from the Hart family's country home. Harry's parents still lived there, in one wing, and his sister's family in another. _Wings._ Harry'd grown up in a house so grand it had _wings._ He could picture it now, sweeping staircases and stag's heads on the walls, endless portraits of generations worth of black labradors. They even had ancestors buried in the churchyard going back to the 1700s, which Harry'd pointed out to him as they walked into the church. 

"You're shitting me."

"I'm not. Harts have resided in this village since 1758. My ancestor built the house, and the church itself was a part of the estate until the twenties."

"Posh people, fucking hell." 

The bride herself had remained composed, serene even, while she'd stood at the altar, dress neat and simple, but with an intricate veil that Eggsy was willing to bet had been in the family for decades and was once held by the Queen or some shit. Her soon to be husband was more fidgety, shifting his weight and ducking his head to smile shyly across at her like he couldn't believe his luck. As much as he'd like to say otherwise, Eggsy imagined he'd be behaving more like the groom than the bride when it was his and Harry's turn. The thought made him reach across to grope for Harry's hand, curling their finger's together as the couple recited their vows.

~ 

The reception was held in a marquee set up on the lawn of some fancy-arse country hotel a few miles up the road. The hotel staff were to-ing and fro-ing, almost invisible as they slipped between the guests milling about and waiting for the bride and groom to make their entrance. The flowers and decorations were the sort that looked simple enough from a distance but screamed money, every detail planned extensively. And yeah, Eggsy had visited numerous hotels all over the world, each more luxurious than the last, but that was always as Gawain, not as himself, as plain old Eggsy, and even now he fought off the uncomfortable niggling that he shouldn't be let past the gates. It lasted all of a moment however, before Harry squeezed his hand and told him to brace himself, as a woman wearing a fashionably cut lavender dress and a wide smile made a beeline for them, her husband following more sedately behind. 

"Harry darling," she said when she reached them, still beaming, and leant up to kiss both his cheeks.

"Mummy," said Harry, and of fucking course he called his mum 'mummy' despite being into his fifties. Eggsy added it to his mental list of weirdly endearing shit about Harry. 

"You were late," she swatted her son on the arm, "barely made it in before Annette, you beast."

"Your mother was quite beside herself," said the man - who could only be Harry's father, they were dead fucking ringers for each other - as he joined them, face settling into a comfortable, well-worn smile.

"Yes well, I'm afraid I was rather expecting it, we're all familiar with your terrible tardiness Harry," she said fondly, "but it meant there was no time for you to introduce us." She looked pointedly to Eggsy, who felt himself straighten up a little bit for inspection, until that moment having felt like more of an observer. 

"Very well then," Harry cleared his throat, hand tightening slightly on Eggsy's elbow as he made the introductions. "This is Eggsy Unwin. Eggsy, my parents, Edward and Charlotte."

"Eggsy," Harry's mum said delightedly, eyes bright, taking both of his hands in hers and leaning forward to air kiss his cheek. She smelt of jasmine and wedding cake. "I can't tell you how wonderful it is to meet you at last. Harry's been frustratingly scant with what he's told us about you, I'm afraid." She shot a half-serious glare at her son.

"A pleasure, Mr Unwin," said Harry's father, with the same crinkled smile as Harry's, shaking Eggsy's hand when Mrs Hart had relinquished her grip.

"You too," Eggsy said, then, feeling it wasn't quite enough, "Harry here's told me nothin' about any of you either, so it's good to see you all in person."

"Of course he hasn't," Mrs Hart said dryly and shook her head, resigned. "Always been a secretive bugger, I'm afraid, as I'm sure you know. But I am ever so glad you're here with us now."

"Yes, as horribly cliché as it sounds, we'd rather thought Harry'd never bother with all the fuss of settling down," Mr Hart added. "Especially with someone he can share his work with," he said in a low voice with the barest hint of wink. When Eggsy had asked if Harry's family knew about Kingsman, his rather unhelpful answer had been 'some do, some don't,' so Eggsy had decided it would just be easier not to mention it altogether. Harry's parents, it seemed, were made up of the former. 

"Here, I'll give you a quick run-down of who's who so you don't get too muddled," Harry's mum lightly took hold of Eggsy's arm, steered him as she pointed out various relatives among the chattering crowd, "over there is Harry's older sister Margot and her husband, and over there his younger brother Benjy with his wife, and oh I've lost track of the children now. But never mind, you'll meet them all properly later on I'm sure."

"Yes, all five thousand of us, eh?" said Harry's father with another wink.

Mrs Hart laughed and patted her husband fondly on the shoulder. "We're a very fertile family, Eggsy dear. Though I know that won't make an awful lot of difference for the two of you - "

"Yes, thank you mummy," Harry cut in smoothly, "I'd best take him to meet granny, don't you think?"

After extracting a promise from both of them for a dance later, Harry's mother allowed her husband to steer her away to greet a straggling group of arrivals. Harry led the way across the marquee, pausing briefly at the table groaning under a fuckload of Pimms laid out to keep guests occupied while they waited for the newlyweds. 

"Your _granny?"_ said Eggsy, accepting the glass Harry handed him. "Fuck off, she must be over a hundred."

"She's ninety six, actually," said Harry lightly, swirling the fruit around the glass, wrinkling his nose when he spotted the cucumber, "and just as formidable as ever. And she would also never forgive me if I don't introduce you to her before any of the others."

Agatha Hart was already seated, a large woman draped in billowing turquoise and keeping a keen eye on proceedings, and, as it turned out, not nearly as terrifying as her name suggested. 

"Granny Aggie," said Harry as they approached, and her face creased up in delight.

"Harry my boy," she said in a booming voice that would've gotten even the poorest group of recruits standing to attention instantly, "it's been an age since you've visited your old grandmother. Give us a kiss then." 

Harry bent to kiss her on the cheek, while Eggsy hung back, blinking at them in surprise. "I know. Work's been rather hectic I'm afraid."

It was then her attention settled on Eggsy, her smile shifting from indulgent to mischievous. "Amongst other things, perhaps."

"Quite," Harry shared a smile far more suggestive than anyone should be sharing with their sodding grandmother. "Granny, this is my fiancé, Gary Unwin. Though he prefers to be called Eggsy, if you wouldn't mind."

"Eggsy, is it? Well, come here then and let me get a good look at you." 

Eggsy stepped forward, not quite sure what to do with himself, and ended up ducking his head in a sort of bow. "An honour to meet you, Mrs Hart," he said, kicking up the charm a notch, "but you're too young to be this old man's grandmother, surely," he jerked his head in Harry's direction.

"Oho, I like this one," she chuckled, eyes twinkling, "well done Harry dear."

Their conversation was cut short as the bride and groom entered to much applause and catcalls, and any guests not already sitting scurried to their places. Their arrival was followed by a fucking top notch dinner and the speeches, during which Eggsy learned that Annette was Harry's brother's oldest girl - which he knew already, but it was easy to lose track, bloody hell - and twenty three, three years younger than Eggsy. He wondered if he was maybe meant to feel weird about that, like the age difference that thankfully didn't seem to matter a jot to any of Harry's relatives maybe should matter. But he sneaked a look at Harry, watching as his brother raised a glass to toast the marriage, relaxed and smiling and playing with Eggsy's fingers under the table, and confirmed that it meant absolutely fuck all. 

Speeches over with and afternoon slipping into evening, the hotel staff began to move the tables around to make space for dancing. More introductions were made, each relative insisting on fetching Eggsy another glass of champagne when his was empty, and Harry's hand on the small of his back the entire time. The old Eggsy might have fought the tiny but inescapable reminder of his presence for appearance's sake, but now he wouldn't do without it. Harry's brother and sister were equally welcoming as his parents had been, as friendly as if they'd known him for years as they threw out every anecdote about their brother they could think of in some sort of competition to see who could make Eggsy laugh the hardest. (Margot won with a story about Harry's twenty first birthday that almost made him spit out his champers.) Their kids were great too, though one of Harry's nephews did look a little doubtful at gaining an uncle the same age as himself. Annette went so far as to pull him into a hug, despite Eggsy's protests about creasing her dress. She shushed him and told him how pleased she was he could be here, and how her Uncle Harry looked less grumpy than she'd seen him in the past few years of family events. He also swore he felt a thigh holster under her dress when she'd hugged him, and mentally added her to the list of Harry's family who _knew._ All of the younger kids were totally enamoured with him, Harry's great nieces and nephews and cousins' children's children, all dressed up smart and fingers sticky with cake as Eggsy told them about his own little sister Daisy and JB the pug, to which they climbed all over him and chattered over each other as they told him about their own pets. There were further aunties and cousins and friends of the family, more than Eggsy could keep track of truth be told, topped off with a Welsh uncle who wouldn't let Eggsy leave once he found out his grandmother was from Wales. Eventually, he managed to escape to the loo - he'd had a bit to drink by now, he couldn't move for someone pressing another glass into his hand - and take a breather. When he came back, the band had nearly finished tuning up and the couple getting ready for their first dance. He scanned the crowd in search of Harry. 

"Have I told you yet," the voice of the very man he was looking for came from behind him, the warmth of him along his back, "how devastatingly handsome you look in that suit?" He brushed a barely there kiss to the side of Eggsy's neck. 

Eggsy squirmed, grinning, and just about managed not to melt back into him through sheer force of will. "Bet you used to say that to all the lads."

"Certainly not," said Harry with mild affront.

"Mm hm whatever, I've heard Merlin chatting about your time at uni," Eggsy said, teasingly. "You were pretty easy, so I'm told. Probably would have let anybody have a go for a pint and a packet of gingernuts."

"Rude," Harry lightly pinched his bum, Eggsy trying and failing to supress the little flinch of surprise and pleasure. "And that's definitely not true."

"Oh yeah?" Eggsy turned to face him, feeling just a little too warm and breathless considering they were surrounded by Harry's entire family for fuck's sake. "How's that?"

"I never liked gingernuts until after Kentucky."

The glibness of it, the ease with which he said it still made Eggsy wince, even after all this time and the nightmares that had long since come to an end. "How does that work?"

"It seems that serious head injuries can lead to any number of unexpected results, Eggsy. One of which, it turns out, is to alter one's taste in biscuits."

Eggsy narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Anyone else in the world and he would have called bullshit, but Harry Hart was another case entirely. "You taking the piss?"

"Of course not," said Harry, guileless, like fucking butter wouldn't melt. 

Eggsy snorted and shoved him lightly away. "Oh, fuck off and get me another drink."

After the couple's first dance - to something soppy by Take That - the rest of the guests started to take to the floor. Eggsy was immediately surrounded by the group of kids he'd met earlier, shyly asking if he'd dance with them. It was so fucking cute he couldn't say no, and he took turns with them all dancing while they stood on his feet, spinning around and laughing giddily. He could practically hear Harry wincing at the scuffs it would leave on his dress shoes.  
A while later, when the kids' attention spans had given up on dancing for the time being, he went back to the table where Harry was waiting for him, draped himself half in Harry's lap while he caught his breath.

"I was starting to think I'd never get you back."

"Aw babes, were you jealous?" Eggsy stroked his jaw, kissed his cheek. "None of 'em were older than six."

"Mm, little William was about ready to take you home."

"Harry, he's four."

"My point still stands."

The pair of them were soon whirled away for their promised dances by Harry's mum - who it turned out was a brilliant dancer and Eggsy had a bit of trouble keeping up with - although he did feel a bit of a prick formal dancing to a selection of Abba's greatest hits. Family of secret agents or not, you couldn't fucking escape Abba at a wedding party, apparently. Once she'd released him, he was passed around what felt like the entirety of Harry's family for a spin around the dancefloor. Granny Aggie, not quite up to dancing anymore, was holding court off to the side, keeping an eye on the smaller children and knocking back the champers like a pro. On the whole, the Harts were charmed and charming in equal measure, although if Eggsy had to hear one more sly comment about how he must be 'keeping Harry young' he might've been forced to revoke his good opinion. After dancing with a particularly chatty cousin of Harry's - apparently she'd been trying to set him up for years, and was scarily enthusiastic about cakes and invites and colour schemes - the two of them managed to sneak outside the marquee for a breather. 

The evening sky was orange and slowly seeping to darkness, candles along the path to the driveway and the surrounding trees dotted with fairy lights. The music was softer from outside the marquee, the talking and laughing of the guests muted to a comforting mumble, the cooling air light with the smell of crushed grass and strawberries. It was all so effortlessly pretty, romantic without being too much, so perfect, and Eggsy was jarringly reminded that he and Harry had organised a grand total of fuck all for their own wedding.

"Harry?"

"Mm?"

"We still have a fuckton of crap to plan."

"I know," Harry sighed, pressed a kiss to Eggsy's knuckles. "Has today given you any ideas about what you might like, at least?"

"A few," definitely no Abba, although he was 100% sold on the chocolate fountain. "What about you? Team effort an' all."

"One or two things have crossed my mind, if you're amenable," Harry said, still absently playing with Eggsy's fingers, "we'll start noting down a few things when we get home."

"I reckon your cousin Penny'd do it all if we asked her to."

"I'm sure she would," Harry said, "in that case, I hope you like lime green." 

Eggsy snorted before stifling a yawn, let himself lean into Harry's side. 

"I do hope my numerous and invasive relatives haven't tired you out, darling," Harry kissed the top of his head, "I've got plans for you later, you see."

"Oh yeah?" Eggsy looked up at him, let his smile slip from sleepy into something else, "big plans, I hope." He slid an arm around Harry's middle, mapping the warm firmness of his body through his shirt. Any fucking excuse to cop a feel, really. 

"Mm," Harry rumbled, pulling him impossibly closer, "the room I booked in the hotel has a four poster bed, a balcony, and a Jacuzzi bath. It's safe to say I have at least three big plans for you, darling."

"Fucking brilliant," Eggsy tugged Harry down for a thorough snogging, nipping at his lip and tasting champagne on his tongue, Harry's hand in his hair and the other slipping down to splay over his arse, groan falling from his lips as he tried in vain to get closer. The rest of the world fell away, forgotten in favour of Harry's mouth under his, the soft hitching of their breath, the thoughts of all Harry would do to him later, would reduce him to a whining, needy mess - 

"Harry dear - "

They jerked awkwardly apart, Eggsy still half tangled in Harry's grip, his lips tingling and slick and fingertips still grasping at Harry's belt.

"I've been looking all over for you," Harry's mum paid them no mind as she bustled outside the marquee, "Netta wants to dance with you, do hurry up." 

"Can she not wait a moment?" said Harry stiffly, his fingers still digging into Eggsy's hip.

"Oh come now, you've all the time in the world for that later," she looked meaningfully at Eggsy, a glint in her eye, "but right now Harry, your niece wants to dance with you on her wedding day, and I suggest you indulge her. She insists you're the best dancer, and wants some photos of the two of you while she's in her dress." 

Harry shot Eggsy an apologetic look before they allowed themselves to be ushered inside, Harry still glowering as he moved off to dance with Annette. It was a slow dance, to some pop ballad Eggsy vaguely remembered from when he was little, and that Harry would surely hate. But he looked happy enough as he and his niece danced, the two of them smiling and chatting softly, the steps second nature. Eggsy knew first hand that Harry was a whiz on the dancefloor, but he'd hardly ever had the chance to watch him, more often the one in his arms. Not that he was complaining mind. The longer he watched, the more he itched to cut in between them, have Harry take hold of him, familiar touch pulling him close and gently guiding him through the steps. It wasn't so long now until it would be their turn, their own first dance, a thought so fucking wonderful that Eggsy couldn't contain himself any longer, and wove his way through the dancing couples to get to Harry. 

And it was just as fucking lovely as he knew it would be, head resting on Harry's chest, stumbling a little through the movements, fuzzy with champagne and lack of practice, and Harry holding back his chiding for it. It lasted for all of two minutes, before Annette insisted she had to dance with Eggsy before the night was out, and Harry's sister demanding her brother dance with her again as her own husband had two left feet.  
The remainder of the evening passed in a sleepy blur of champagne and tipsy relatives asking him any questions about himself they hadn't had the chance to yet. Eggsy was beginning to get quite jealous of the kids, long since either gone to bed or sound asleep in some quiet corner of the marquee. But before long, the bride and groom were waved off to the hotel to much whistling and applause, and the other guests began to drift off in groups, either home or to rooms booked in the hotel. There followed another session of goodbyes and hugs and promises to meet up again soon. The next time Eggsy would be seeing most of them would be at his own wedding, which made a happy little weight settle in his chest, the same feeling as when he tucked Daisy in at night, or kissed Harry good morning. The long parade of drowsy goodbyes all merged into one, other than Granny Aggie's, which was rather more memorable - 

"Goodnight Gary dear, it was a pleasure to meet you. The two of you must come and stay with me one weekend, no no, I insist. And well done Harry my dear boy, you've chosen yourself a wonderful young man. Handsome and charming both, eh? And lovely thighs. Well, cheerio!"

In the calm of the quiet lull that always followed big days such as weddings, Harry and Eggsy sat on one of the benches outside the hotel, basking in the solitude they suddenly found themselves in. Harry's family were fucking brilliant, but it was nice to just be with themselves again. The summer night was cool, just enough so that the fresh air was a relief after being in the stuffiness of the marquee for hours. Eggsy had long since loosened his tie and popped a few buttons of his shirt, cufflinks in his pocket and sleeves rolled up. Harry had made no such allowances, and still looked as pristine as he had when they'd left the house that morning, other than his hair having fallen slightly out of style, waving down over his forehead.

"Us next then," said Eggsy as he shuffled closer on the bench, tucked his head under Harry's chin.

"So it would seem," Harry laced their fingers together in his lap. 

That was all they said for a while, content to just sit, before they had to gather themselves back up and go their room. Eggsy was about as happy as he could ever imagine being, until - 

"Bollocks..."

"Eggsy darling," he felt Harry tense beside him, "what is it?"

"We're Gary and Harry, fucking hell," he groaned. "That's not going on the sodding invites, I can tell you that for starters."

Harry laughed softly, pressed a kiss to Eggsy's temple. "We can put whatever you want on the invites, Eggsy."

"Fucking right I can," Eggsy said, holding back yet another yawn, suddenly wanting nothing less than a soft bed underneath him and his fiancé on top of him. "Just take me to bed Harry, yeah?"

"I'd be honoured, darling," Harry said, and helped him to his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finished off in a bit of a rush, I wanted to post it before I go to Wales for the weekend ayyy.  
> Eggsy's fam next :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realised part way through writing this that most of Eggsy's family are from Michelle's side, and so not technically Unwins, but shh. There might be mistakes because I'm about to fall asleep, I'll fix them in the morning.

The occasion on which Harry met some of Eggsy's family was decidedly less formal. In the time since V-Day - or more accurately, since Dean had been put away - their family had begun to knit back together, to close the tear Eggsy's stepfather had made. It was all a bit of a cheerful exercise in making up for lost time and not taking for granted what remained of their family, so it really wasn't all that hard for Eggsy to persuade his mum into having a few of 'em around one evening - get the beers in, get the footie on telly, and show off the home Michelle and Daisy now called their own, courtesy of Kingsman.

Eggsy's family were mostly from Michelle's side, and mainly women come to think of it, after V-Day had wreaked it's havoc. Lee Unwin had had very few relatives, a brother who Eggsy'd never known had died in the riots, and his mum, Eggsy's only remaining grandparent, who still lived in Wales. He'd only met the woman a handful of half-remembered times before Lee's death, after that even fewer still, and when Dean came along they'd drifted out of contact with her altogether. When he'd told Harry about this, much more casually than he actually felt about it, he'd asked if he might like to make contact with her again. Invite her to the wedding even, if she was amenable. Eggsy still wasn't sure if he'd take Harry up on the offer, but it was nice to know it was there. 

"Sure you're ready for the rabble, babe?" Eggsy said, giving Harry's hand a squeeze as they paused a moment on the doorstep of his mum's house. They'd arrived purposely early, to give themselves a minute to settle before the inevitable twenty questions from Eggsy's relatives.

"As I'll ever be," Harry said, though he was smiling, and they both knew well enough it would take more than a potentially awkward social situation to throw him off his game. But still, it was unnerving for the sheer fact that it was the sort of thing they didn't usually do, excepting Annette's wedding, which made them both a little wary, despite all their best intentions.

"Alright," Eggsy straightened up, JB huffing from where he was tucked into the crook of his elbow - Eggsy didn't like leaving him behind if he didn't have to, "better go in then."

They let themselves in, the house tidy and well lit and sweet with the floral candles Eggsy's mum loved, quiet other than the faint crooning of Ed Sheeran echoing from a few rooms away. They followed the music through to the kitchen, where they found Michelle slinging the last tray of Iceland's finest frozen party food into the oven, an apron over her sparkly black top. She'd accepted Harry grudgingly as a friend and colleague of her son's, after the long ago but certainly not forgotten circumstances of their first meeting. Things had been a bit more sketchy when the time came to tell her they were seeing each other too - mother and son hadn't spoken to each other for almost a month when he'd finally found the balls to break it to her - and in the end it was Daisy, asking when she was going to see her big brother again, that caused them to patch things up. Several months down the line, and at worst Michelle was distantly polite when in Harry's company, though there were more and more moments when she forgot about her resentment, threw him a sparkling smile or a familiar touch on the shoulder when she handed him a cuppa.

"Hello boys," she grinned and came over to kiss Eggsy on the cheek. Harry was a few years her senior, and yet she always referred to them as such. If it made it easier for her in some way, Eggsy was quite happy to leave her to it. "You're surprisingly on time."

"Alright mum," he said, gave her smacking kiss on the cheek in return, grinned when she told him to watch her make-up. 

"Bloody menace, you are," she said, running a critical eye over her foundation in her reflection on the microwave, "all your dad's side, that." She'd started talking about Lee more often lately, not all the time, but just the odd, neutral mention, which was more than Eggsy'd heard from her since he could remember.

"Good evening Michelle," Harry handed her a bottle of wine, "thank you for having us."

"Don't thank me too soon," she said with a grin as she took the bottle, "you ain't met them yet."

"Eggsy!" Daisy rushed into the kitchen as fast as her four year old legs could manage, and flung her arms as far as they could reach around his middle. She was wearing the winning combination of an Avengers t-shirt and a sparkly purple tutu, and JB wriggled frantically in Eggsy's arms in an attempt to say hello.

"Nice outfit Dais," he said when she let go, bending to set JB down on the tiles. He immediately skittered over to the little girl, jumping up as much as his short legs could manage before she sat down, squealing in delight as he huffed and snorted and tried to lick her face. 

"Well _you_ try getting her to change," Michelle tutted.

"Nah, I mean it. Can't go wrong with Iron Man and sparkles, right?"

"Hi Uncle Harry," Daisy said through her laughter as JB slobbered all over her fingers. "Did you bring biscuits?"

"Not this time I'm afraid, Miss Daisy," Harry said. The two of them had once eaten their way through a literal mountain of Jaffa Cakes when he'd somehow ended up babysitting, and the day had obviously stuck with her. "I believe your mother's got pudding under control, and something much more exciting than biscuits, I'd wager."

"Bloody right she has," said Michelle, waving to the counter where a selection of desserts sat defrosting, "lemon cheesecake, chocolate gateau, raspberry pavlova, mini trifles, and profiteroles in the fridge."

"Fucking _yes_ mum," Eggsy stepped forward to get a closer look and maybe sneak a taste, but, spy training or no, Michelle was quicker.

"Oi," she slapped his wrist, "not yet, you pig." 

"Jesus fuck," he rubbed at his sore wrist, half insulted, half impressed, "mum that was fucking brutal. Have you always been so freakishly strong?"

"You watch your mouth in front of your sister. She's picking up a lot these days," Michelle said. "Made the mistake of leaving Embarrassing Bodies on telly the other day, and I tell you, the questions she came out with after..."

First to arrive was his mum's sister Debbie, single and proud, a firm fan of sequins and cheap red. She worked behind a bar, and was pretty fucking ace at it besides, and the minute Dean was out of the picture she'd appeared, knocking at the front door, asking how she could help. Absolute ledge, was Auntie Debbie. Eggsy was fucking glad to have her back. It also became apparent after two seconds of her meeting Harry that she wanted in his pants, nephew's fiancé or no.

"Fuck me, who's this?" she asked, as soon as she'd hugged Michelle hello and left a smudge of her lippy on Eggsy's cheek.

Eggsy cleared his throat, tried not to laugh. "Auntie Debbie, this is my fiancé, Harry. Harry, my Auntie Deb."

"I think my menopause is reversing just looking at you," she said, giving Harry an appreciative once-over. "Bloody hell."

"Delightful to meet you too," Harry said, not missing a beat. 

"Seriously Eggsy, where the hell did you find this one? Tell me quick, I wanna go back and see if there's any more."

"We met at work," Eggsy said. Well, it was mostly true. Certainly the fucking easiest explanation anyway. "At the tailor's."

"Mm, so you're a tailor too then," she hummed, folding her arms across her chest in a deliberate way that pushed her boobs together under her leopard print cardi. His Auntie Deb may have been many things, but subtle was not one of them. "Good with... measurements."

"Yes, I'm very good with my hands," Harry gave as good as he got, not even his aloof 'work voice' could cover up the obvious innuendo, "always have been."

She raised her eyebrow. "That so? I hope you're keeping our Eggsy satisfied."

"Fuckin' hell..." Eggsy muttered, wondering if now was a good time to step in and put an end to it before it kicked up a notch from mildly embarrassing to moving to Cuba and never coming back levels of weird.

"I believe I've got everything well in hand, madam."

"Well, if you ever - "

"Oi Deb!" Michelle cut loudly across her sister, exchanging an exasperated look with Eggsy at their self-imposed one-upping each other with outrageous flirting, "come and give me a hand with the wine, yeah?"

"Give us a sec," Auntie Debbie called over her shoulder before turning back to Harry. "The minute this thing you've got goin' with Eggs goes in the shitter, you give me a fuckin' call, yeah?" She tipped him a wink, earrings jingling. 

Michelle having successfully lured her away with the offer of a glass of wine, Harry was left looking bizarrely pleased with himself if slightly traumatised, and Eggsy stifling his laughter into the shoulder of his jacket.

"Fuckin' hell," he managed between breaths, "looks like I've got competition."

"I can honestly say I've never had a proposition quite like that before."

"You two are as bad as each other, Jesus."

Thankfully his mum's other sister Jules and her husband Dave arrived not long after, family in tow, a whirlwind of Adidas and mad laughter. Auntie Jules and Uncle Dave were about the happiest couple Eggsy could remember from his childhood, always together, always smiling, maintaining a slew of good natured insults mixed in with their kisses. Their two kids were more or less Eggsy's age and they'd grown up together, though they'd seen less of each other when Dean appeared, and Eggsy'd had to sneak out to see them. Their son Gavin had died during the rioting on V-Day, something that made that familiar guilty niggle creep back into Eggsy's head as it did every so often when he was having a bad day, and he really fucking regretted that he couldn't tell them about his role in all of it. Their daughter, Kaz, was a couple of years older than Eggsy, and had been his best friend through some pretty shit times. Her husband Callum - Jamal's cousin as it happened - and their son Jamie came along too, and, just like every time he saw the boy, Eggsy was fucking shocked how quickly he was growing up. He swore, if you looked away from him or Daisy for two seconds, they were half a foot taller when you looked back. There were a few more cousins and friends and the like - Harry'd met Ryan and Jamal and a couple of Eggsy's other mates before - that weren't there, but there was plenty of time for that later.  
JB was fucking ecstatic to see so many people all at once, all of whom bent to give him a belly rub or scratch behind the ears, panting and slobbering the whole time. Eggsy'd brought him along purely because he knew how much of an attention whore his little pug was, and with both he or Harry away a fair bit, he deserved some proper fuss now and then, which Eggsy's family was more than happy to dish out. Auntie Deb had sent JB a little bumblebee outfit for Christmas last year, for fuck's sake. 

They all settled down around the living room, multiple crates of beer and piles of mini spring rolls, battered prawns, samosas, and about twelve types of sauce, laughing loudly and swapping small talk. Eggsy took an odd delight in watching Harry pick his way around the mini sausage rolls as though he was expecting something nasty to jump out of them. Gentleman as ever, he politely accepted whatever food he was offered, though Eggsy ended up eating a lot of it. It wasn't as though Harry was being snobby about the food on purpose, but after decades of dining out, it just wasn't what he was used to, simple as that. Although he did put away a fair few of the prawns, Eggsy noted.  
A little while later, Harry went out to the kitchen to get them both another drink, allowing himself to be hauled back by Eggsy for a quick, slightly beery kiss before he did so. The moment he'd vacated the sofa, Kaz jumped up from where's she'd been sitting on the floor, leaving Callum to entertain Jamie and Daisy with the face swap app on his phone, as she flopped down next to him.

"Fuck Eggs, I knew he was older and a bit posh, but I wasn't expecting Mr tie-me-up tie-me-down over there," she jerked her head in the direction of the kitchen, hoop earrings swinging.

"I know right," Eggsy smirked, feeling he had every right to be a little bit smug about his fucking gorge fiancé, ta very much.

"I bet the sex is top fucking notch."

He and Kaz had always been pretty frank about their sex lives - when Eggsy was fifteen and seeing this girl from school a bit, Kaz had sat him down, told him to 'fucking wrap up or you'll regret it later,' and thrown a condom at his head. After that they'd adopted a bit of a sharing is caring approach to their sexploits. 

"Out of this fucking world, Kaz."

"Oh yeah?" She smiled slyly. "Looks like he could spank you six ways to Sunday and you'd thank him for it after."

"Shit Kaz," he got a bit hot and flustered despite himself, "keep your fuckin' voice down could you? And where'd you get that from?"

"Seems like the type, yeah?" she shrugged. "And there was that time you got completely off your tits at my mum's birthday last year and talked me through a sodding bullet pointed list of your kinks, you dirty sod."

"I... shit."

_"Bullet points,_ Eggsy," she grinned and shook her head. "Anyway, s'alright, it makes up for the time you barged in on me and Callum with the - "

" - fuck, don't - "

" - maid uniform," she finished, with more glee than Eggsy would've liked. 

"I'd almost forgotten about that," he sighed exaggeratedly, "no chance now."

Kaz snorted and elbowed him in the side. "Shut up and go rescue your bloke from Auntie Debs. He's been in the kitchen far too long for it to have been free will, you get me?"

"Alright. See you in a bit, yeah?" He clambered up from the sofa to make his way towards the kitchen. He didn't even get that far in the end - he was just walking past the gap-toothed childhood photographs of him lining the hallway, when Harry turned the corner and they bumped into each other. Well, not literally, their reflexes were both pretty shit hot. Turned out he actually had been held captive in the kitchen by Eggsy's Aunties, before Michelle took pity and set him free. 

"C'mon babes," he took hold of Harry's hand and tugged him gently towards the stairs, "let's have a bit of a breather."

Harry let himself be led up the stairs and along the landing to the spare room. Eggsy knew his mum had big plans for it - he wasn't a hundred percent sure what they were, he'd zoned out a bit while she was telling him - but for the moment, the walls were still that dull as fuck magnolia, the floor covered in a mix of old posessions and new purchases that she hadn't found the right place for yet. An odd contrast of old baby things, ugly china and new appliances. In the corner sat a large blue bean bag, something that had used to belong to Eggsy, back in the flat. 

"Mate, I haven't seen that for ages," he made a beeline for it, pulling Harry with him.

"Eggsy don't you dare, if I sit down on that I shall never - " he was cut short as Eggsy pulled the pair of them down onto it "- get up again." He huffed as Eggsy laughed softly and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You beast."

"So, my aunties didn't scare you off then?"

"It was a near thing," Harry said, shifting his weight as he tried to get comfortable on the lumpy bean bag, a fucking hilarious sight in his typically immaculate suit.

"Fuck," Eggsy smothered a laugh with the back of his hand, "what did they say?"

"They cornered me in the kitchen - literally, I might add - something which your Auntie Debbie looked entirely too happy about. They told me they'd break my legs if I ever fuck you over, because you and your mum have had enough shit with Dean and everything else, and they're not prepared to sit by and watch it happen all over again," he sniffed. "It was rather touching, come to think of it. Or it was, until Debbie started actually touching me, and your mother took pity and came to my aid."

Eggsy snorted. "Fuckin' hell Debs." He fell quiet, resting his head on Harry's shoulder as the two of them sat slumped in the manky old bean bag in his mum's spare room, and Eggsy was about as happy as he could ever remember being. His life had picked up in ways he could never have imagined, not just Harry and Kingsman, but his family too, now Dean and his pack of dogs were no longer there to keep them all away.

"I love you y'know," he pressed a dry kiss to the warmth of Harry's neck.

"I do know, as it happens," Harry said, his arm tightening around Eggsy's middle, fingers resting on his hip, "but that doesn't make hearing it any less wonderful." He shifted back a little to kiss Eggsy on the mouth, hand coming up to rake through the shorter hair on the back of his neck. "I love you too."

Eggsy kissed him properly then, long and purposeful, sucking on his lower lip in the way he knew Harry enjoyed so much, he usually did it without thinking. He was only dimly aware of his family chattering away in the room below them as he climbed into Harry's lap, the movement making the bean bag shift about underneath them. He arched his body into Harry's, pushing his arse back into where Harry's hands were splayed over the seat of his jeans, keeping him in place as Eggsy continued to snog him within an inch of his life. He was just deliberating whether it would be worth going for a quickie or whether they should be good and go back downstairs, when the decision was made for them.

"Aw shit," Eggsy's head snapped around to see Callum holding back laughter as he herded Jamie and Daisy back out into the hallway. "Sorry," he said, though he didn't fucking sound it, Jesus, "Daisy was giving me n' Jay a tour. We'll just..." he trailed off, still biting his lip to keep from laughing as he shut the door.

"What were they doing?" came Daisy's voice from the landing as Callum marched the two kids back downstairs. He didn't hear the answer. 

"Ugh," Eggsy dropped forward to rest his forehead on Harry's shoulder, face hot, "if I buy you a packet of gingernuts on the way home, will you finger me until the past two minutes have been obliterated from my memory?"

Harry's laugh was warm against his neck. "Alright. Though we could always use the amnesia darts, if short term memory loss is the goal."

"Nah," said Eggsy, heaving himself up from the bean bag, "not as much fun, and a 90 percent higher chance of vomit."

"True," Harry accepted the hand Eggsy offered to help him up, brushing invisible dust from his jacket. He put his fingers under Eggsy's chin, tipped his head up so their eyes met. "But you know I hardly need bribing to take you to bed, darling."

By the time they got back downstairs, the kids had gleefully blabbed to everyone about catching the pair of them snogging like schoolkids in the spare room, their little faces bright with being the centre of attention. The entire roomful of Eggsy's family greeted their entrance with a chorus of slurred cheers and catcalls, and an approving "oi oi, can't keep your hands off each other you dirty fucks," from Uncle Dave. Great. 

But once they'd all had a laugh and Harry and Eggsy had sheepishly sat down again, it was forgotten. Everyone was full and sleepy, sprawled over the furniture with half finished drinks in hand and the odd sausage roll dotted about as they chatted about nothing much. Daisy and Jamie were curled up together like puppies as they slept on an armchair, JB standing guard at their feet, although doing a pretty shit job of it, as he was snoring too.  
Harry was across the room, balls deep in a debate about cricket with Uncle Dave, who could watch literally any sport and gladly share his opinion on it for hours. Luckily, or unluckily, Harry was just as stubborn, they'd probably be at it for hours with neither admitting defeat. Jules and Deb had gone to start gathering the washing up, leaving Eggsy on the sofa with his mum. 

"You're not too pissed with me mum, are you?" he said, softly enough that the others wouldn't hear, "about us getting married?" It might have been a stupid time to ask, with most of his family and Harry in the same room, but it had to be said some time.

"Nah Eggs," Michelle said with a small but genuine smile, "I'm fucking thrilled to see my baby boy tie the knot, 'course I am." She put her arm around him and gave him a squeeze, dropping a kiss to the top of his head. "'Specially after all the shit we've been through. I only ever wanted you to be happy, you know that."

"But?"

"But..." Michelle started carefully. "He ain't what I wanted for you Eggsy, it ain't no secret, and I'm not gunna drag all that up again now. But you're happier with him than I ever was with Dean, any idiot can see that," she took a shaky breath. "I might have my misgivings about it, but he'll look after you, whatever happens. That much I know."

That was... shit, fucked if he was going to let himself cry. He bit his lip and leant into her shoulder, let himself be hugged. "Thanks mum." 

In the end, Michelle persuaded the family to stay the night, what with it being so late, most of them three sheets to the wind and all of them half-asleep. But Eggsy and Harry easily begged off to go home, which made sense considering they lived all of five minutes away, and made their goodbyes pretty sharpish, amidst all the winks and shouts of 'the two of you have a good night,' with Eggsy promising to drop in on them all next weekend. 

They made the walk mostly in silence, hand in hand and enjoying the cool night air after the beer tinted stuffiness of a crowded living room. When they got home, Harry unlocked the front door, pushing it open so JB could dash in across the tiles to his bed. Eggsy lingered on the doorstep a moment, head tipped back as he traced the dotted stars across the sky. Which meant he was completely caught off guard when Harry swung him up into his arms, bridal style, one arm firm under his knees and the other around his shoulders.

"Fucking hell, what are you doing?" Eggsy said, clinging on around Harry's neck for dear life as he carried him through the doorway and into the hall.

"Practising," Harry said without missing a beat. 

Eggsy blinked at him a moment before it dawned on him what Harry meant, unable to stop the deliriously happy smile spreading across his face. "You soppy old fuck."

"Only for you, darling."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I a little bit want to write the wedding too, but I feel like I'd just end up repeating myself, and writing this last chapter was like pulling teeth. But it would be really cute and I am weak, so we'll see. Maybe I could hook Auntie Debbie up with a charming Hart cousin who has a lot of yachts or something, idk. 
> 
> My Tumblr is [](url)eatingmoonflowers btw, I post a few ficlets and stuff there that I don't post to AO3.


End file.
